Sylvia's Choice
by Basmathgirl
Summary: After going to Shan Shen and being thrown into a totally different AU, Donna is totally fed up with the way her mother carries on; and then she devises a plan. One that involves revenge among other things/people.
1. Chapter 1

**Genre:** film parody, AU  
**Disclaimer:** the only thing I own is the way my brain makes weird connections. Written with many apologies to Harold Brighouse.  
**A/N:** me, rip off a film? Of course I did! Because this idea would not leave me alone; so I caved.

* * *

** Sylvia's Choice**

**Part One**

.

Increasingly the smell of the woman's incense overcame Donna's senses as she sat waiting for her reading in the mystic's tent in the market the Doctor had brought her to on Shan Shen. Why was this happening? What was going on? And why was…

She fell into blackness as the world faded away.

* * *

The first thing Donna felt was muzziness; then her mind cleared and she found herself standing outside a large two-storey shop building proclaiming it was Noble Intergalactic Inc. in massive lettering. Something drew her to this place. Drew her like her very essence needed it to survive. Not that she felt she was being judged for the fact it represented her whole life.

She gazed at herself in the huge plate glass window. Why was she surprised to herself peering back at her, with such a confused expression on her face? Her straightened shoulder length hair shone out against the stark whiteness of her suit. It was tailored to hug her physique in a flattering way, and the pencil skirt discretely ended at knee level rather than above it. The only other splash of colour was the deep blue cravat around her neck that seemed to emphasise the blue element of her eyes. All in all she didn't think she looked so bad, considering… Considering that she generally hated being faced with her reflection. If only she could be more like her their Jenny.

More information filtered into her mind. This would never do. She was a business woman first and foremost, not a fashion model. So squaring back her shoulders, she reached out to push on the door; and entered a completely different world.

Donna Noble entered the shop and swept her expert gaze over the sleek shelves and the two equally sleek shop assistants before she walked through into the main office beyond. Some people might have argued that it was a factory with a showroom, and to some extent she would have agreed with them; but she always thought of 'front of house' as being a shop, and the doorway to the outside world. The effect was added to by the fact their living quarters resided above the work rooms behind the shop.

The shop assistants wore a uniform of white and electric blue stripes, matching the general décor perfectly; like some outpost of Apple. Of the two assistants she had to admit that she was biased towards Jenny, her little sister. She was shorter, prettier, blonder, and cleverer in many aspects compared to her, but she was also quite naïve in her outlook on life. But fortunately Donna found her extremely endearing, with her piercing blue eyes and sunny smile that was reminiscent of her father. Donna's advantage was that she was worldlier and more knowledgeable about finance and trade. She could run the office with one hand tied behind her back if necessary.

The other shop assistant was Martha Jones, a long term employee who was about to enter the outer world as a fully-fledged university graduate in a few short months. There was no other way to describe Martha than as being beautiful; with her flawless complexion, dark smoky eyes and dazzling smile. She had been a very wise choice as a Saturday Girl who, over the seven years she'd been there, had become an asset as she took on more duties. Her time with the company had been invaluable, but she now had her sights set on pastures new. Donna and her mother had come to think of her as family; she would miss her dearly, but it was a necessary change in life. Who beyond family would want to spend all of their time with the company?

That led her thoughts onto the workshop manager, John Smith; a wonderfully knowledgeable man who could turn his skills to so many departments but had stayed there through thick and thin. He had joined as a trainee manager straight from school at a similar time to Donna; eager to learn and try out his enthusiasm in several areas, starting with assembly, diagnostics, and then later design. The company had progressed quite a long way under his protection, if he all but knew it. As it was, he probably didn't. His concerns were with the products they'd developed, not the finances.

That was down to the leadership skills of her mother, Sylvia Noble. Her husband had founded the company many years ago, and when he sadly died, leaving her as a widow with two children to worry about, she had taken over the reins with a viciousness that was unlikely to be seen again!

Well, that being said, she gave out her orders to Donna, and it was she who was instrumental in making sure they were followed through; and it was she who managed the books. Not that Sylvia would acknowledge her role in things, or even gave her credit. No, in Sylvia Noble's eyes, Donna owed her very existence to her mother, and should be eternally grateful for the chance to have a roof over her head and a steady job to consider her own. As she boasted to her friends that it was her doing that the company existed in such fine health, Sylvia never ever mentioned her daughter's contribution; but merely said that the place practically run itself. Of course, none of her friends truly believed this, but none of them would disagree or dispute her words. You did not get on the bad side of Sylvia Noble. She had friends in high places, and a memory that was far too long for comfort.

"We don't sell gadgets, we sell dreams," she would often be heard to declare. And she wasn't far wrong, for the goods they produced and sold fulfilled all sorts of deeply harboured dreams of their clientele; dreams of the technological kind.

As Donna entered through the adjoining door that separated company and customer sides, Jenny was standing looking pensive.

"Oh it's you, Donna. I thought you were Mum coming back," Jenny said with relief.

"No, it's me. Mum is late this morning," Donna explained. How she knew this escaped her; she just knew.

There was a frown in answer. "Has she eaten yet and had her coffee?"

Donna snorted. "I doubt it. She was out with the Wednesday Girls last night."

Jenny nodded knowingly whilst Martha commented, "She won't be in for ages yet." She then added, "I hope she stays away until after lunch."

"Why? Are you expecting someone, Martha?" Jenny innocently wondered.

"I might be," Martha deliberately answered vaguely, and blushed.

A buzzer went off above their heads to denote that someone had entered the shop; and Martha hurried out to attend to them.

Standing looking at the display of their newest items was Mickey Smith, an employee from Torchwood House; an impressive local government building. He visibly brightened when Martha appeared from behind the counter.

"Good morning, Mickey," she greeted him. "Mrs Noble hasn't appeared yet."

He seemed reluctant to reply properly beyond an, "Oh."

"Hello. How may I help you?" Donna asked as pleasantly as she could as she strode in to take charge. He often appeared in her shop but rarely, if ever, bought anything. Well, she'd be blowed if she let him get away with that one again!

"I'm just looking, thank you," Mickey replied.

"There must be something I can find you," she muttered as she swept up to his side and picked up something from the display. "You'll need a new memory stick. What size do you normally buy?"

"I'd say 16Gb or 8Gb," he cautiously answered, "but I don't need…"

Donna replaced the one in her hand and decisively picked another one from off the display. "Then this one should do you."

"Donna, Mickey didn't come in to buy a memory stick," Martha huffed.

"Oh really?" Donna quirked an eyebrow in Mickey's direction, daring him to agree with Martha. "He comes in here an awful lot. I wonder why he does."

Mickey nervously gulped. "I do get through a lot of memory."

"Do you use up a memory stick every day? Blimey you must be working with some powerful graphics!" Donna noted.

"I like to keep a stock of them in case I need something," he defended himself.

"Well then, now you've got another one," she said brightly.

"Ah." Mickey cautiously looked at the memory stick that had been thrust into his hand. "I don't really need another one."

"Of course you do!" she insisted.

"How much is it?" he asked as he turned it over in his hand.

"£16"

"How much?!" he spluttered.

"It's a bargain at half the price for something that size," she stated, ignoring his tone.

"I never thought I'd be coming in here spending that sort of money," he grumbled as he handed over a twenty pound note.

"You won't waste it; especially with some of the things I hear your boss needs these things for," Donna promised as she rung it up, and then handed him his change. "Thank you for your custom, Mickey."

"Thank you," he blankly reciprocated, and left the shop after throwing Martha an annoyed look.

Waiting for him to go, Martha complained, "Look Donna, we know you are a pushy saleswoman, but…"

Donna shrugged her shoulders dismissively. "It'll teach him to stop hanging about in here when he obviously has too much spare time."

"You know why he comes in here," Martha countered.

"If he comes in here anymore than he does, I shall have to start charging him rent," Donna retorted. "Paying for a memory stick is the least of his worries. I've seen him making eyes at you; and I'm sick of the sight of him."

Martha's face clouded over with fury. "It's all very well for some old biddy like you going on like that, but this is the only time I get to see Mickey. You know my mum won't let him anywhere near the house until after I've fully qualified."

Donna was unrepentant. "If he wants to go out with you, why doesn't he? Good grief, he earns enough to be able to marry you if he wanted!"

Martha went slightly coy. "We have to get to know each other first, and not rush into things."

"You don't need all that rigmarole," Donna argued. Looking for a likely example, she picked up two iPhone covers. "You see this one? It's all pretty with fancy glitter and sequins. That's what romance is like when you get to know a bloke; but it's just as good as this plain one that just shuts up and does its job. All that froth ain't no good to no one."

Martha didn't look convinced, but she didn't get her chance to continue the discussion because Sylvia glided in through the door from the confines of the main office, dressed up to the nines and reeking of expensive perfume.

"Donna, I'm just popping out for a minute or two," she announced.

"Okay Mum, but don't be late for lunch. I've doing us a nice roasted ham in the oven."

"I've got over an hour yet," Sylvia pointed out as she glanced at the gold watch sitting on her wrist.

"And if you spend longer than that gossiping in the nail parlour you'll be late," Donna re-joined.

Sylvia indignantly retorted, "Nail parlour? Who said-"

"If lunch is ruined it's your own fault," Jenny joined in.

"Oh for…!" Sylvia bit back on the possible retort.

"Don't swear, Mum," Jenny pleaded.

"Now listen here," Sylvia began, tapping a French polished fingernail on the nearest counter top. "I've been thinking about how you three carry on, and I won't have it, do you hear? Sticking your noses into what I'm doing and when. If you don't like it, you know what you can do!"

"I expect Maxine is waiting for you in the nail parlour," Donna calmly said.

"And she can carry on waiting for all I care!" Sylvia blazed. "I'm talking to you, missy. And you will listen to me. You've been getting above yourself ever since your father died, and I'm not having it! I won't have you bossing me about; none of you."

Anxious to distract her, Martha tried saying, "Sylvia, you'll have more time to talk to us later, after we've shut."

"I'm going to tell you now, and you will listen to me," Sylvia insisted, pointing a finger at each of them in turn. "Youngsters of today need a firm hand, especially when there isn't a bloke around; and you seem to think you can rule it over me, but I'm not having that."

"I'm sure I'm not like that," Martha rightly defended herself.

"Oh yes you are!" Sylvia disagreed. "You are intelligent, pretty and as self-important as a government official."

Something in Jenny snapped as she heard her mother berate Martha. "If we do you a dinner it's not self-important to ask that you're not ridiculously late!"

"You need to ease off, Sylvia," Martha advised.

"I'll give you ease off!" Sylvia warned. "And this is going to end."

Donna stepped quietly forward and asked, "How much money do you pay us a week?"

"What's that got to do with the price of meat?" Sylvia argued. "At the moment I'm talking about smugness, and you don't treat your own mother that way. I'm ashamed of you with the way you all carry on. You're a disgrace to the Noble Intergalactic name."

"What have I done wrong? I don't know what you're talking about!" Martha protested.

"Hark at her lying like a politician. I've seen you in all your new clothing," Sylvia complained.

"I suppose you're talking about Martha and me, seeing as we bought dresses and skirts last week." Jenny seethed. "We'll wear what we like, not what you choose!"

"Too right I'm talking about you two. And if you think I'll shut up whilst I see you gadding about showing me up, you've got another think coming."

"But I thought you liked seeing me in nice stuff," Jenny said in hurt tones.

"I do," Sylvia agreed. "That's why I pay your credit card bills. If you look good you are an asset to the business, the pair of you. But Suzette saw you tottering down Newport Street in a skirt that barely covered your bum and shoes that'd poke your eye out."

"It's the fashion!" Jenny defended herself.

Sylvia growled, "To hell with fashion! I don't want you dressing like that. We have a position in this community to worry about, and you are forgetting your roots."

Jenny scowled. "I am not dressing like some chav just to please you."

"And so you shouldn't," Sylvia agreed. "But you don't have to look like some tart either. Your trouble is that you don't know when you're well off! At this rate I'll have to find husbands for you both."

"I'll choose my own husband, when I want one, thank you very much," Jenny countered.

"I hope you're better at finding one then you are at picking clothes, judging by what Suzette saw," Sylvia griped.

"And where do I come in all this?" wondered Donna as she forced entry into the conversation. "I've heard a lot about these two, but what about me?"

"You?" Sylvia echoed as she considered her eldest daughter. "What are you on about?"

"Don't I get considered where husbands are concerned if you are going to start picking them out?" she pondered.

To her annoyance, Sylvia burst into laughter.

"Don't make me laugh! You… with a husband? You can't even keep a boyfriend for longer than five minutes. What do you want a husband for?"

"Oh, you know, little things, like sharing your life, having children; that sort of thing," Donna reasoned.

The smirk still played about Sylvia's mouth. "Nice as that thought once was, you're too old for all that now; and you should consider other things."

"I wasn't too old when it suited you!" Donna blazed, and instantly bit her tongue when Jenny looked puzzled.

The empathetic look on Sylvia's face didn't help the hurt either. "Just be happy as you are, Donna, running this place. I don't understand why you want more. Anyway…," she began, as she reached out to grab up her handbag. "I'll see you at lunch. Now who is that pulling up in a posh car?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** any delays will be down to the fact I've got hubby at home for a few days.

* * *

**Part Two**

All four of them considered the large dark limousine that had appeared outside the shop and parked on the small customer car park. Their eyes followed the passenger get out and enter the shop. It was an old friend of Wilfred Mott, a widow who had once married a wealthy man but would forever be known by him as Minnie the Menace.

"Ah, morning, Minnie," Sylvia greeted her as she walked in through the door.

"Morning, Sylvia; girls," Minnie answered politely. "Have you got that special remote my Harry ordered yet?"

"I'll just check with John," Sylvia promised as she picked up the nearest phone and pressed a button. "John, have you finished the Hooper remote yet? You have? In that case, can you bring it through?" After a pause, she said to Minnie, "Won't be a moment."

A few seconds later an eager young man burst into the room. "Did you want me, Donna?" he asked her.

"No, James, we wanted to ask John if he had the Hooper remote ready yet," she answered, and then turned to Minnie. "Have you met James yet? He's our John's younger brother."

"I don't think I have," Minnie said as she squinted at him. He was tall and thin, smiling anxiously at her as his tuft of dark brown hair bobbed up and down as it tried to decide where it wanted to be. "Nice. You look very alike."

"Like two peas in a pod," James nervously commented as he struggled with the attention of five women. "I'll go and…" He pointed to somewhere behind him.

Fortunately he was rescued by the appearance of John, striding in confidently. "Here you go, Mrs Hooper. I hope you are pleased with it." He handed over a small device that had been lovingly packaged immediately into Minnie's hands.

She examined it with obvious delight. "You've made it match my furniture and everything. Oh John, you are clever!" she beamed at him, idly noting what soulful brown eyes he had. "Did you know that you came highly recommended? Well, you did, and I shall make sure everybody knows about you."

Donna watched with interest as John blushed a pleasing shade of red. "Thank you, Mrs Hooper," he stammered.

"I hope you give him a bonus after this, Sylvia. He deserves one," Minnie declared.

"He gets paid what he's worth," Sylvia retorted.

"Carry on like that and he'll go elsewhere if you're not careful," Minnie countered. "If you ever do make a move, make sure you let me know, won't you, John?" She then dived down into her handbag to find and draw out a business card. "Here you go, keep hold of that for future reference."

"Yes, madam. Thank you," he politely blurted out as he took the offered card.

"Thanks, John; you can go," Sylvia nodded at him.

"Yes, Mrs Noble. I'll get back to my work bench." He then dutifully hastened away, pushing James to go with him.

Minnie followed his progress back to the workshop. "Blimey! He's like a rabbit. A good looking one, but a startled rabbit nevertheless."

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs Hooper?" Donna brightly asked.

Minnie smiled. "Not at the moment, thanks, Donna. But I'll make sure my daughters come in and use this place. As long as you let your man do his job."

Donna escorted her to the door. "Certainly, Mrs Hooper. I'll make sure of it."

"Goodbye then," Minnie called out.

"Goodbye, Minnie. Come back again," Sylvia joined in as she walked nearer the door. But she soon changed her tune once Minnie had swept out. "What did she go and do that for? Telling John a load of claptrap and saying he should be paid more."

"I suppose he deserved the praise," Donna countered, knowing full well that he had.

"Deserved?! Don't talk wet. All he did was do what he's paid to. He'll get above himself at this rate," Sylvia fumed. "I won't have her back in my shop."

"Don't be daft, Mum," Donna protested.

Sylvia's face was like thunder. "I mean it! I'll show her, thinking she can lord it over me just 'cause she lives up at Hartfield Hall."

At that moment the doorbell clanged and in stepped Wilfred Mott. "Morning, my darlings! That was a bit of a shocker."

"What was, Dad?" Sylvia instantly asked.

"That you're getting the likes of Hartfield Hall coming in here these days. You'll be turning this into another Harrods at this rate," Wilf joked.

"You mean Minnie Hooper?" Sylvia airily wondered in order to boast. "Yes, she's an old and valued customer of mine."

"Funny you've never mentioned that before." Wilf gave a conspiratorial wink towards Martha and Jenny, making them silently laugh behind their hands.

"We've been providing bits and bobs for her since… how long is it, Donna? It's a while now," Sylvia continued.

"Never mind all that, "Wilf tried to push aside the boast. "Are you going to give me this lift up to the other side of town or what? I promised Stan."

"I'm just coming, Dad," Sylvia huffed, exasperated that she hadn't impressed him. "Now what did I do with my keys?" She cast her gaze about.

"Here they are!" Martha held them up high.

Sylvia gratefully took them off her. "Thanks, love. I'll see you all later. Come on then, Dad."

They stepped outside the door, but didn't get straight into Sylvia's car, but instead stood by the open boot talking. Annoyed, Donna went out to remind her mother about their planned dinner together.

Nearing the car, she caught the end strains of their conversation.

"It ain't right, Dad. My own daughters are trying to get the upper hand, and they see me as nothing more than empty talk."

"Surely not," Wilf sympathised.

Sylvia continued her gripe. "I've tried shouting at them and I do my best since Geoff died to keep them in place, but they never seem to care."

Wilf chuckled as a thought occurred to him. "You could always distract them by getting them wed."

Sylvia sighed. "I've thought of that. Look how badly it went that time with Donna…"

"Now that wasn't her fault!" Wilf defended her.

"Even so, where do you find decent men?"

"There's plenty of blokes about, Sylvia. Or are you waiting for angels wearing trousers to appear? Anyway, you've got two daughters to sort out, unless you're now adding in Martha. "

"No, Dad. Martha is capable of finding a nice boy after university has finished; but I've only got to worry about the one to really worry about. At the moment both Jenny and Martha are fancy window dressing in the shop, but Donna… Donna is too useful to part with, and she's far too passed it for marriage."

"Don't be daft!" Wilf protested. "Women twice her age get married."

"We'll see." Sylvia was obviously unconvinced.

"I think I know of a possible someone," Wilf murmured.

"No doubt one of your cronies who'd cost me dearly to bail out at a future date. No thanks. I'll take my chances elsewhere," Sylvia scoffed. She then shut the boot lid and spotted Donna standing a few feet away. "Did I forget something?" she immediately asked.

"Just the fact we'll be expecting you in for dinner just after one," Donna replied.

"I'll do my best," Sylvia answered non-committedly. "Bye!"

Wilf waved as they drove off, leaving Donna standing thoughtfully on the pavement. Is that what her mother really thought, eh? She stormed back into the shop, ignoring the two girls' inquisitive stares.

"Is something up, Donna?" Jenny finally asked.

"No, I'm off to check on dinner," she threw over her shoulder as she strode through the internal connecting door.

* * *

Except she didn't make her way upstairs; instead she went into the workroom, where she found John and James sharing mugs of tea as they started their lunch hour. She couldn't help smiling at the two of them; they certainly made a handsome pair, and she'd grown extremely fond of them over the years.

John immediately jumped up off his stool. "Yes, Donna?" he enquired.

She kept her smile in place. "Sorry to disturb your lunch, but can I have a quick word with you, John?"

"I suppose so, as long as you're quick," he hesitantly replied, and shot James an anxious glance.

"I'll just be erm…" James pointed vaguely out the window, and raced out of the door, leaving them alone.

Waiting for the door to close, Donna gestured to John to lift something up. "Would you show me your hands, please?"

John reluctantly obliged, letting her hold his hands palm upwards. She ran her thumb over the smooth skin of his fingers, noting the places where there were calluses and where it remained soft.

"They're nothing much to look at," he modestly stated.

"Maybe," she retorted, "but they are very clever hands. They have designed and fashioned products like no other man. Who taught you, John?"

He noted with some embarrassment that she wasn't letting go. "Why I erm… I learnt everything I know here."

She waved her hand in disagreement. "Dad never taught you anything after you left college."

He blushed. "I've had no other teacher apart from reading the odd book since then."

Donna dropped his hands. "You didn't need one. You're a born genius," she said as she considered him at close range. "Shame you're daft in other ways."

He shrugged his admission. "I just like gadgets; in fact I love them."

Hmm; now was the time to prod him a bit more. "When are you going to leave Noble's?"

John stood stunned. "Leave Noble's?!" he spluttered. "I don't… I thought I was a good worker."

"You are," she agreed. "Don't you want to leave one day?"

"Nope," he responded, popping the 'p'. "I've always been here and I've no intention of leaving."

Donna snorted her scorn. "I said you were a daft halfpence!"

"Then I'm a loyal halfpence," he countered.

"But John, don't you want to get on? You heard what Mrs Hooper said. You know what wage you get here; you could easily get more in a bigger place," she argued.

"Oh I couldn't do that!" he said as he shied away from that suggestion. "Those places are scary."

"What's keeping you here? Is the erm… the people?" she chanced asking.

He rubbed his neck as he thought through his answer. It had certainly been his reason for starting there, once upon a time. "I dunno what it is. I'm used to being here."

Here was her chance to put forward her argument. "Do you know what keeps this business going? It's two things: one is the gadgets you make that sell themselves, and the other is the rubbish other people make and I sell. We're a matching pair, John Smith."

He grinned, wondering where this was leading after such a declaration. At one time his heart would have raced away with excitement. Hopefully a pay rise was in the offing. "You're marvellous in the shop, Donna."

"And you are wonderful here in the workshop. Well?" She stood expectantly.

"Well what?" He gawped back at her.

"It all seems to point one way."

"What way is that?" he asked, still confused as to what she was after.

She sighed in exasperation. "You are leaving me to do all the work. D'uh!"

"Oh! Sorry," he instantly apologised. "I'll get back to it as soon as I can."

He turned away, but she touched his arm to halt his progress. "That's not what I meant. And I've not finished yet. I've watched you for a long time now and everything I've seen I've liked. I think you'll do."

"Do?" He frowned at her, now utterly flummoxed. "In what way will I do, Donna?"

"John Smith, you're my man," she said decisively. "I've been thinking about this for a good six months and it had to come out some time."

What?! "But I never…"

"I know you never," she agreed. "Or it would never have been left to me to do this."

"I'll erm… I'll sit down," he faintly responded, and sunk onto his stool as his blood pounded through his ears. "I don't feel very well. What do you want me for?"

She smiled sweetly. "I want to invest in you. You're a business idea in the shape of a man."

"I've haven't got a head for business," he insisted.

"But I have," she confidently replied. "My brains and your clever hands would make a working partnership."

He stood up, feeling somewhat relieved. "Partners in business, eh? Now that's a different thing. For a moment there I thought you were asking me to marry you." He went to put his mug in the nearby sink.

"I am," Donna stated.

"What?!" he exclaimed in shock and just about managed to save the mug from smashing as he had to lean against the work top to stop himself from falling over. "Blimey! But… You've always been the boss's daughter."

"Maybe that's why I'm doing this, John," she reasoned. "Maybe I'm sick of all this. Maybe I've had enough of Mum, and Dad before that. You're as different as any man I know." She then sat herself down on the stool nearest to him.

"It's a bit awkward," he confessed.

"You're not helping me here," she grouched. "How is this awkward?"

He glanced cautiously at her. "I mean you talking to me like this."

"I'll tell you something for nothing, John. I'd be bonkers to be the sort of woman who can't be arsed to get up off her backside," she told him sternly. "I am not going to let my best opportunity in life slip away. Life in Chiswick is too chancy to lose things because you're frightened to speak up."

"I'm your best opportunity?" he wondered incredulously as he sat back down.

She placed a tender hand on his knee. "You are, John."

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "I never thought of this."

"Well think about it now," she advised.

"I am," he remarked. "This has is all a bit sudden and more than a surprise, so I can't think clearly yet. I like you an awful lot and have a great deal of respect for what you do, Donna. You've got a…" He mimed a gesture. "…shapely body, and you're brilliant running the shop and that; but when it comes to marrying, I must be honest. I'm not in love with you." 'Not any more' he silently added to himself.

She bristled as she stood up. As if love had anything to do with this decision! "That's not the point, and wait until you're asked," she spat out. "I want you to promise you'll consider this idea, and then we'll get the best out of life."

"We won't get much out of it if there's no love between us," he argued.

A confident smile appeared on her lips. "I've got enough love."

He protested, "Well, I've not! And I'm being totally honest with you."

"It doesn't matter; we'll do without," she insisted.

He raked a hand through his hair desperately. "You seem pretty set on this, but I'm completely puzzled why. What would your mum say if she knew?"

She shrugged. "She'd say a heck of a lot, knowing her, and I don't care. It will make no difference to me."

"It's best we don't upset her," he suggested. "There's no need to when it's not worth it."

"I'll be the judge of that," she retorted huffily. "You are going to marry me, John."

"No I am not," he denied. "Really, I can't do it, Donna. I know I'm upsetting all your plans but I'd be grateful if you'd stop including me and get rid of this idea."

That made her glare in anger. "When I make arrangements, Sunshine, I expect to follow through."

He screwed his face up in agony. "Well it wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't already taken."

"You're what?!" She stared at him in shock.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** #**WARNING**# Rose fans might want to skip this part, as you won't like it. And I've been a bit mean to Jackie for dramatic purposes - I'm really sorry about that.  
**A/N2:** in case you are unsure what banns are, they are the notification of upcoming weddings read out in church (in the hope of avoiding bigamy).

* * *

**Part Three**

.

John suddenly wished he was anywhere except sitting in front of Donna's accusing eyes. "I said I'm already sort of spoken for. Her name's Rose Tyler," he mumbled.

"Then you'd better get unspoken for!" she demanded. "Who the hell is Rose Tyler? Do I know her?" She quickly moved herself away from him before she was tempted to strike out.

Suddenly feeling the need to, he stood to try and retreat from possible harm, and shifted his gaze away again. "I'm a lodger at Jackie's; that's her mum. Me and James both are staying there."

Donna wanted to fume, and edged nearer. "The scheming hussy! It's not that blonde bit that brings you lunch sometimes, is it?"

"Well… She is blonde, and we are a bit forgetful about picking up our packed lunches. Yes, Rose should be here soon," he supplied.

"And so shall I," Donna said with determination. "I'll talk to Rose. I've seen her and I know the sort, very well. She's one of those pathetic damsels in distress." She strode over to look out the door to see if Rose was coming yet.

"She does need protecting," he softly admitted.

"Is that how she got you?" Her eyes widened as she considered this, and shut the door firmly. "Yes, I can see her clinging round your neck like some limpet until you saw yourself as the hero. But I'll tell you this, Sunshine; a woman's got to be pretty desperate in order to look for protection from someone like you."

"Rose does."

Donna was not impressed; not in the least. "And that tells me everything I shall ever need to know about her. She is destined to do not much more than ride on your coat tails until the end of her days. You marry her and you'll be nothing more than a shop boy for the rest of your life. You'd be little more than a slave; and a contented slave at that."

John looked crestfallen as his spirits plummeted. "I know I'm not very ambitious."

"No," she agreed. "But you will be. I'll see to that. I've got my work cut out for me, but there's the potential to be a great man in you."

"I wish you'd leave me alone," he replied sulkily as he sat himself back down on his stool. To add to the sulk he rested his elbows on the workbench and placed his head on his hands.

"Said the fly to the spider," she muttered. "You're my man, John."

He added in a pout. "So you say. Rose will have a different tale to tell."

Speaking of the devil; at that precise moment Rose bound in, all smiles and cheery confidence, as she held out a packed lunch for him. "I've just seen James outside and he said you were in here talking with your boss, so I thought I'd better bring in your lunch, John. I hope you don't mind." She flashed a coy smile towards Donna.

"Thank you, Rose." John got up to greet her in order to take his meal.

There was an awkward pause before she replied, "I'd better get back home. I'll see you later." Rose then swept a lock of hair behind her ear as she gave him confident grin, fluttering her heavily mascaraed eyelashes as she did so. When she turned to leave she found Donna standing purposefully in her way to halt her exit.

"I want a word with you. You're treading on my toes, young lady," Donna firmly stated.

"Me?!" Rose then stupidly looked at Donna's feet.

"What's all this about you and him?" Donna demanded to know.

Rose immediately went into gushing mode. "Oh Miss Noble, or can I call you Donna? Anyway… It is good of you to take notice like that."

"Rose, she…," John started to interrupt her.

"You hold your tongue," Donna told him. "This is for me and her to sort out. Take a good look at him, Rose."

"At John?" Rose queried, clearly puzzled.

Donna nodded. "There's not much of him for two mature women to fall out over, is there?"

What was she getting at? Rose jumped straight to his defence. "He might not be much to look at, but you should hear him play."

"Play? Are you a musician, John?" Donna asked him.

He blushed modestly. "I play the violin a bit, and sometimes the piano when I get the chance."

Donna turned her attention back onto the blonde in front of her. "Is that what you see in him, Rose? Some lanky fella that plays the violin and piano?"

Rose shook her pretty head. "I see the man I love, Donna."

Donna chuckled. "This'll make you laugh, but I can see the same."

"You what!" Rose gasped out in surprise.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Rose, and… and…" John almost whimpered. "Bloody heck! She'll take me off you if you're not careful."

This statement from him pleased Donna; it meant she wasn't losing. "So far we're even, Rose."

"Excuse me! You're too late to stake a claim. John and me are already an item," Rose argued as she took possessive hold of his arm.

Donna was not deterred or impressed by this show; her cause was helped by the lack of an engagement ring on Rose's finger. "That's the past. I'm looking towards the future; his future. What are your plans for that?"

Rose was irate and stepped forward to prod an anger finger in Donna's direction. "Mind your own business, Donna! John is my concern, not yours."

"That's what I keep trying to tell her, but it's no good, she won't listen," John added in.

"Not a jot," Donna agreed with him and then returned to consider Rose. "I've asked what your ideas are for John's future. If they're more likely to happen than my idea then I'll give you my best wishes right this second and you can have him."

Rose stuck out her chin in defiance. "I trust him to make the right decision about his future."

That gained an exasperated sigh from Donna. "It's as bad as I thought. John, will you marry me?"

"What?! You can't do this! This is daylight robbery," Rose weakly complained.

"Aren't you going to put up a better fight than that for me, Rose? You're more or less giving me away to her," John protested.

Donna drew herself up to her full height and used her best haughty voice to tell him, "John Smith, you take your orders from me in this business company. I've told you you'll marry me."

He sighed resignedly. "Seems like there's no escape," he muttered, and despondently sat himself back down yet again.

Rose's anger jumped to the fore. "What's the matter with you, John? Just you wait until I get you home. I'll set Mum on you for doing this to me!"

"Oh," Donna gasped in understanding. "It was her mother that set this all up, was it?"

"She had a fair bit to do with it," John confessed. "As did her father."

"I've got no father, John," Donna pointed out.

"You don't need one, either," John conceded.

"Well," Donna started to say as she took on a different persona, "can I help you buy anything, Miss Tyler? A new pretty phone cover, perhaps."

"No. Nor anything else," Rose said through gritted teeth.

"Then you've no more business being here and I'll say good day to you." Donna deliberately took hold of the door handle and held the exit door open in invitation.

Almost immediately Rose made her way over to stand close by John. "Are you going to let her order me out like that?"

"It's her workshop, Rose," he reasoned.

She gawped back at him. "You mean I'm being chucked out like this?"

Donna openly glared at the girl.

"She means it," he warned Rose.

There was a huff as Rose walked towards the door. "This is madness."

"When it's time to go it's best to be quick and do it without whining about it," Donna advised.

"I'm not whining, and I'm not going for good either! But he'll know it tonight when my mum sets about him," Rose threatened as she made a slight move towards him.

"That's enough," Donna warned in return, using a low voice.

Absolute fury blew through Rose then; and she began shouting at him in revenge. "John, I am telling you that when you come home tonight you will get more than a thick ear when Dad gets hold of you! And that's after Mum has slapped you from here to next Thursday!"

Having said her piece, she turned tail and stomped out; slamming the door behind her. Donna watched her go in wonder. Thank goodness she hadn't hired anyone like that.

John wondered what on earth he'd do now. He dreaded the thought of going home that evening to a severe beating; and it wouldn't be the first time it had happened in his life, although it had been a while. Sighing, he stood up and gently insisted, "I'd much rather marry Rose, Donna, if it's all the same to you."

Donna was instantly baffled. "Why? Is it because of her mother?"

All he did was shrug in resignation. He might as well confess all to her since it was unavoidable. In fact it would be a relief after all this time. "She's got a fierce slap, and she can give a right old tongue lashing."

Then the penny dropped. "Are you frightened of her?" Donna gently asked.

There was a slight touch of hesitation before John said simply, "Yes."

She pursed her lips. Obviously he was used to be being physically abused, and had been since a child. Her emotions swelled up for him in that moment. "You needn't be."

John tried in vain to chuckle. "Yes, well, you don't know her. She'll go on at me until I'm blue in the face when I go home tonight."

The hell he would! "You won't go home tonight."

He swung round in shock to see if Donna was kidding. "Not go? But…"

New plans were already swirling around her head to resolve this appalling situation. "But nothing. You've finished living there. Both you and James can go and stay with Gramps when you knock off work; and Gramps will send someone round to Jackie Tyler's for your things."

This must be a delusion, he determined. "And I don't have to go back there ever again?"

"No." She smiled reassuringly.

He snorted with joy, and fought to stop himself from hugging her. "It's like an 'appy dream. Eh, Donna, I know you manage things, but I never thought you'd do this." He might have dreamt it a few times but he had never imagined it actually happening.

"Talking of which, I'd better phone Gramps," she commented as she turned to go. "And while I'm doing that I'll arrange for our banns to be read."

What?! John let out a squawk in protest. "Banns! Oh, but I've not got used to the idea yet."

She held on to her plan mentally. "You'll have three weeks to get used to it; and I want to be married in a church. Before you go and find James to tell him the news you can kiss me, John."

He baulked at that. "That's forcing things a bit, don't you think? If I kiss you it's as if I'm saying I agree to everything." Besides, a kiss should be completely spontaneous, and when he'd wanted it… in the past.

"Yes," she merely answered.

"And I don't agree yet," he moaned. "I'm…" He didn't quite know what he was as he stood there.

"Get on with it," she complained. But he didn't make a move. When Jenny and Martha appeared through the door, she added, "Do what I tell you."

"Now?! With them here?" he objected loudly.

"Yes," she maintained.

He panted in panic for a bit as he considered it; but he certainly didn't want an audience. "I can't!" he declared and then ran out of the room.

"What's the matter with John?" Jenny asked in confusion.

Aiming for nonchalance, Donna answered, "He's a bit upset because I've told him he's going to marry me. I wonder if dinner has finished cooking yet."

Jenny took in several breaths as she tried to cover her shock. "You're going to marry John? John Smith?"

"Good grief! You've kept it quiet, Donna," Martha remarked in surprise.

"John has only just found out himself," Donna informed her.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Jenny burst out with. "Look here, Donna… what you do affects everything else, and you're mistaken if you think I'll welcome John Smith as my brother-in-law."

"Why? Not posh enough for you, is he?" Donna testily demanded.

"It's not that, but…come on! He works for us and he's nothing grand. You ask Mum if you don't believe me. I'd hoped to marry someone decent as well, one day," Jenny grumbled.

"Who were you hoping to marry?" Donna commanded.

Jenny dropped her gaze and blushed. "If you must know, it's... no one." After some moments she added, "Okay, it's Jack Harkness."

Maybe this wasn't such bad news after all? "Got a little bit of a crush, eh? Normally I'd say you'd never be able to capture a man like Jack. He's a bit old for you and he probably spends all his money on fancy clothing and men's moisturising products," Donna scoffed.

"As I said… one day. Anyway, I'd much rather go to university first before all that marrying nonsense," Jenny defended herself. "But it doesn't look as though Mum'd let me do that sometime soon."

"That's what you really want, isn't it?" Donna answered with more compassion. "Have you picked out anywhere in particular?"

"Well… I've sort of applied…" Jenny was saved from saying more by the arrival of Sylvia, from having to make a further confession.

"What are you lot standing around gawping about?" Sylvia loudly wondered. "Isn't dinner ready yet?"

"I'm just about to dish up. Give us ten minutes, would you?" Donna replied as she headed for their private quarters.

Sylvia tersely looked at the clock on the wall and followed her up the stairs. "You said one o'clock and it's gone that!" she complained.

"Yes I did," Donna readily agreed. "I meant one for half past."

As they reached their kitchen, Jenny hurried about to set the table while Sylvia sat herself down. "Did anything happen after I left?" she questioned.

"Didn't you hear the news about Donna, Sylvia?" Martha asked as she brought several condiments over to the table and sat down next to Jenny.

"News? What news? It's always the same with her. She gets high and mighty about something or other every day," Sylvia remarked as she glanced round at Donna bustling about. "Now where's this dinner you promised me?"

"Hold your horses, it's coming," Donna answered, and turned towards the table, holding two plates. She placed one in front of Sylvia, the other in front of Martha; and then went to get the remaining two plates. Placing them in front of herself and Jenny, she too sat down. "I don't want you to get angry, Mum, but you might do when you hear the news."

Sylvia picked up her cutlery and started eating. "Why? What's Martha been doing?"

"Who me?!" Martha squeaked. "I've done nothing. It's about John Smith."

"John?" Sylvia repeated.

"Yes," Jenny confirmed gleefully. "What do you think of him, Mum?"

"Well…" Sylvia considered this question for a moment. "He's a decent enough bloke. I've got nothing against him. Why?"

"But would you like him to be in the family?" Jenny persisted.

Sylvia frowned. "Family? Whose family?"

"Yours," Martha supplied as Donna stopped eating abruptly.

She squared her shoulders as she took in her mother's stunned expression. "Mum, I'm going to marry John," she said calmly. "That's what all the fuss is about."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I'm a bit worried about the Donna/John scene, to be honest.

* * *

**Part Four**

.

Sylvia immediately jumped out of her seat and bore down on Donna. "Marry John? Are you out of your tiny mind?!"

Donna tried not to be intimidated by her, so she gave a small shrug. "You said I was well past the marrying age, but I'm obviously not."

"You stupid little cow! What on earth makes you want him? I'd have found you a proper husband if you'd have wanted one!" Sylvia yelled, gripping the edge of the table as her angry turned her knuckles white in emphasis.

Donna blinked back the urge to cry, and defiantly told her mother, "You said I was too old to find a husband."

"Well you are!" Sylvia spitefully insisted. "Even Jenny is pushing it a bit."

Both Martha and Jenny protested about this absurdly old fashioned viewpoint.

"And even if you were not," Sylvia continued her tirade, "You've got other things to worry about than chasing after men; so you can forget about marrying him pretty sharpish."

"But this morning you said…," Jenny began to contradict her.

"Never mind what I said, because I've changed my mind! I ain't rushing into paying out for any wedding so that some hanger on can live off my efforts," Sylvia grumbled.

"Mum!" Jenny gasped, horror-struck.

"Oh go and get yourselves away from me. I want afters and a cup of tea," Sylvia grouched; causing both Martha and Jenny to race away from the potential firing line.

But Donna stood up and faced her down, knowing this was an important moment. "We need to put our cards on the table, Mum. I'm no fool and you're not an idiot, so we'd better get this sorted out, right here, right now."

Sylvia glared back. "It's no good you trying to change my mind on this. You can't marry John. What are you even thinking by considering him? He's come from nothing, going nowhere, and knew no better than being in care homes. I grant you that he's looked after his brother well, but he's not good enough for you."

"So we're nothing but a bunch of snobs now, are we? _I've_ chosen John. Not you, me! If you think you can talk me out of it, you can jog on," Donna blazed back.

"Oh no you don't! I'd be a complete laughing stock if I let you get away with this, and it ain't going to happen." A pointed finger was jabbed in her direction. "You forget I'm your mother, and I won't have you make me look a right mug. Anyone hearing about this would think you're desperate."

Donna gritted her teeth to hold in her rage. "How old do you think I am?! I'm adult enough to make my own decisions and I am marrying John. Now I'll tell you what you are going to do..."

"What do you mean? You're in no position to tell me what to do!" Sylvia interrupted in protest.

"You will continue to pay John his wage, same as before, but the big difference is that you will start giving me a decent wage instead of the pittance I've put up with all these years. I will stick to proper hours too, and none of this unpaid overtime you've gotten away with."

Sylvia stared at her daughter with incredulity. "Do you think I'm made of money?"

"You'll have even less if you let John go. And if he goes, I go," Donna threatened.

Sylvia smirked maliciously. "I'll risk it. It's easy enough to find cheap workers these days."

"You get what you pay for," Donna bit back. "If you want to watch over your workers all day, making sure they actually do something without robbing you blind, then that's up to you. I'm worth having, and so is John as an employee. Go and boast to your cronies down at Maxine's Nail Parlour that your daughter has got herself a good'un, and do what's right."

"I'll tell you what I'll do," Sylvia spat back and stormed over to the main door. She thrust it open and hollered down the stairs to the workshop below, "John! John Smith! Come up here!"

John obediently appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Did you want me for something, Mrs Noble?"

"I said come here!" Sylvia shouted. She waited for him to meekly run up and stand before her before she continued. "I hear you've got yourself tied up with my daughter," she growled.

He anxiously shook his head. "No, I haven't. She's done all the erm…" He did a whirling gesture when words failed him.

"Well, John, whatever you've done, you've fallen on bad luck," Sylvia said as she stepped forward with menace. "It seems you've got some wild notion of love in that head of yours that needs to be knocked out."

He gulped nervously. "Donna, what's this all about?" He turned pleading eyes onto her.

She gazed confidently back at him as she silently willed him to stick up for himself. "I'm here, Gadgetboy."

There was a scornful snort from Sylvia. "Well John, you can just about keep your job but that's where your luck runs out. Love has blinded you and I'll put you right on that score." She raised her hand in readiness.

"What?! You're totally wrong, Mrs Noble," John protested.

"Oh yes? You'll forget your fancy ideas about having my Donna if you know what's good for you, or you'll feel more than the sharp edge of my tongue, you snivelling little weasel. You'll wish you'd never been born!" Sylvia shouted at him as she shot daggers in his direction.

John squeaked indignantly. "This isn't my doing, it's her that's after me; but I'll tell you this, Mrs Noble…," he started to say as he took hold of Donna's arm; "if you start threatening me I'll take Donna as mine and stick like glue."

"There's only one answer to that!" That was a loud 'THWACK!' as Sylvia slapped his face, hard.

Donna automatically winced away from the blow, but John stood his ground; absolutely infuriated now at his unfair treatment. "And I've only got one answer. Donna, I know I've avoided it so far but… bloody hell! I'm going to kiss you now!" he fumed and grabbed Donna to kiss her in anger rather than with passion. He then turned to stare Sylvia down as he spoke to Donna. "I'll take you and hold you. And if your mum tries to slap me again, I'll do more than that. I'll walk straight out the shop with you and we'll set up somewhere on our own."

"John! I knew you had it in you," Donna praised him, and instantly threw her arms around his neck.

John, however, did not hug Donna back, but let his hands flop to his sides as he enjoyed Sylvia's plight as she gawped back at him. His nostrils flared as he asked her, "Well? What's it to be?"

Inevitably, Sylvia Noble did not roll over and play nicely.

* * *

"Thanks for doing this, Gramps," Donna enthused as they all eventually sat down for their evening meal together. "We're really grateful"

Both John and James immediately added in their thanks.

Wilf merrily laughed. "You're very welcome. Donna will be okay in the box room for now. Will you two be okay mucking in together in the back bedroom, with that double bed?"

"We'll be fine thanks, Wilf," John happily replied. "James and I are used to sharing a room, but we don't normally share a bed."

"Not since we were small, anyway," James added in.

There was a chuckle of understanding from Wilf. "Never mind, eh? John and Donna will be sharing a bed once they are married instead."

Both men blushed, but John went redder and nervously cleared his throat.

"Gramps!" Donna admonished him.

So Wilf kindly changed the subject. "Didn't take long to pick up all your bits once Harry convinced that Jackie woman we were there on your behalf. That girl of hers, Rose, has got a pout on her though that'd win prizes."

"She was the ex, Gramps," Donna pointed out.

"What her?!" he exclaimed. "That young slip of a thing. How old is she? She's doesn't look much older than our Jenny."

"She said she's twenty one," John supplied.

Wilf frowned in disapproval. "And you're the same age as Donna here. That wouldn't have been easy. How did you come to be with her, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It was my fault," James guiltily blurted out. "She erm… she walked in on me when I was in the bathroom a while back. I must have forgotten to lock the door or something, and Jackie heard her scream. Next thing we know, Jackie's yelling that things can't carry on like this and either Rose is married soon or we'd both be chucked out on our earhole. It should have been me but…" He despondently hung his head.

"It was my place as eldest to take the blame," John remarked, giving his brother a consoling pat on the arm.

"You mean that Rose didn't know which one she had disturbed?!" Wilf wondered as he regarded their different hairstyles. "I know you look a lot alike but… Is there something wrong with her eyesight?"

"I was naked and wet in the shower at the time," James reluctantly admitted. "All she did was look and scream."

"Now lad, it isn't your fault," Wilf consoled James. "Who has such old fashioned views these days? You see more than that by switching on the telly. That Jackie woman should have told her daughter off for marching in on you like that, not punish you both."

"Water under the bridge, James," Donna softly told him as she placed a hand over his, and gave it a friendly squeeze. "I know you are used to being with John so I will do my very best to provide a home for you."

"You will?" he wondered brightly as he shared a pleased glance with John.

Donna was delighted to reply with, "Of course. And when our business grows you'll come and work with us."

James sat happily giggling to himself. 'Could this day get any better?' he asked himself as he tucked into his dinner with gusto.

Having seen James off to work the following morning and provided a flask for Wilf to take up to his allotment, it was a pensive John who finally found himself alone with Donna, facing a whole day together for the very first time in their joint temporary unemployment. The first thing he did was make a fresh pot of tea and take her in a cup to where she was sitting with her notepad open on a 'to do' list.

"Erm… thank you for doing all this for us, Donna," he decided to begin with when he sat himself down next to her on the settee in Wilf's lounge. "And sorry for losing us both our jobs like that by making that stand with your mother."

"I'm not sorry," she brightly trilled. "We can get started on important things right away now. I have a list of estate agents to contact about business properties, and I've got an appointment at 2pm with the vicar to book the wedding. Did you have any particular preference about the day or time?"

He shook his head. "No, and I'm not dependent on when family can come because James is all the family I have."

She allowed herself to move nearer and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. Soon you'll have lots more family to enjoy or ignore, as the case may be."

John glanced down at her hand lying so delicately on him, and it enticed his senses. "About that kiss you wanted," he stammered. "I erm… I'd like to give it a proper go, if that's alright."

Hiding her inner glee, Donna brought her face close to his; expecting him to peck at her cheek. "Help yourself, Gadgetboy."

Using one hand, he took hold of her chin and slightly tilted it. Where should he land? Should he play it safe or should he go for gold? Steeling himself, he then looked into her trusting eyes as she warmly gazed up at him, and quickly made his decision. Easing forward, he pressed his lips onto her mouth and closed his eyes to enjoy the experience even more.

She slightly pressed back, so he moved over her lips in a few gentle sweeps, encouraging her to undulate beneath him as he opened his lips to taste her unique flavour.

It was just as he remembered; intoxicatingly so, and he couldn't stop himself from seeking more as he smoothed his tongue along her bottom lip. As planned, she opened for him to explore further, and he happily groaned as their tongues glided together.

It was at that point they wetly parted as the need to breathe took over, but their mutual grins spoke of their delight with the unanticipated treat.

"It's going to be difficult to live under the same roof if we continue like this," he huskily admitted.

"I want to save the full thing until after the wedding," she quickly confessed, and was gratified when his expression fell in disappointment. She knew how to rectify his downward mood, and was willing to risk this with him. Using her best sultry voice, she murmured, "But I can offer this in the meantime…"

He wondered what she meant, until he felt her fingers run a path over the front of his trousers and he realised what she was offering. "Oh Donna!" he gasped out as he brought her mouth back to his.

They sunk back into the cushions, trading tender, passionate kisses that spoke of so much more. In that moment he would have promised her anything; done anything that her heart desired.

* * *

A month later some things were very different.

Martha was stood at her usual station in the shop but Jenny had taken over Donna's favoured spot, sitting looking through the ledgers with some dismay. It wasn't as though she was stupid, for goodness sake; but her interests did not run to keeping books for managing a business. She'd much rather escape upstairs and read her science books instead.

After some moments she realised that James was standing anxiously near her. He immediately nodded in greeting as he caught her attention. Part of his anxiety was down to the fact he was keen to discuss the latest book he had read with her, but he'd been told time and time again that the shop floor was not the place for that. Shame, because books were normally the main consolation in his life. Another major part of his anxiety was that he had to remind her of his absence later in the day. Donna had been quite clear that he should leave on the dot when she had handed him his new suit that morning, and she had supervised him laying it down on the back seat of his car before he had driven away.

He smiled to himself as he thought about the way she had fussed over him before he had left Wilf's that morning for work. She seemed to have made him her latest mission, making sure he was always perfectly smart, well fed, and worry free. There had even been a jealous frown from his brother over this treatment, which had secretly pleased him enormously. He had had his own reservations about Donna's regard for John seeing as they had long been a non-item. True, John had always acted a bit secretly smitten with Donna, but there had definitely been something between them since that first night at Wilf's; and John had seemed keen to share her company for some reason. But his thoughts were soon brought back to the present by a noise to his side, forcing him to bring his attention back to Donna's pretty young sister with the weight of the world on her shoulders.


End file.
